WUat Mamie Learned 



A Play in One Act 
Witli Three Scenes 

Evaline Harrington 



Crestvicw Jr. Higii School 
ColMmbus, Ohio 




Price 25 Cents 



CopwWit, 1922 
Approved by the Notional Council Teachtrs of Bn^lish 



Wnat Mamie Learned 

B13 EV ALINE HARRINGTON 



Cast of Characters. 

Mr. Brown A School Janitor 

Mamie His Daughter 

Miss Evans A Teacher 

Mr. J. M. Wells A One-Day Employer of Mamie 

Scene I — In a school room after school. 
Scene II — In an office of the Board of Health. 
Scene III — Same as Scene I. J -*» 

Time — The present. 
Place — Any town in the United States. 



Copyright, 1922 

BY 

Ev ALINE Harrington 



-CLD 62601 



\ 






SCENE I-TIME^^LAST OF MAY. 

(Miss Evans, a teacher, is at her desk piling up the 
papers handed in by her English class. Enter the Janitor, 
Mr. Brown. They exchange greetings. He dusts aimlessly 
and from his manner Miss Evans recognizes that he is 
itching to talk as his custom is when his children are 
worrying him.) 

MISS EVANS— Well, Mr. Brown, I saw your daughter 
Mamie, as I was waiting for my car this morning. How 
is she getting on in the High School of Commerce? Mamie 
was a good little student when I had her. A pleas- 
ant girl, too. 

JANITOR (Coming over and standing by her desk at the 

right) : — ^That's what I was goin' to talk to you about. 

You see Mamie she's a quittin' the Commerce High. She's 
not goin' any more. 

MISS EVANS (turning, surprised) :— Not going? Why, I 
thought she liked it at the High School of Commerce? 

JANITOR:— Oh she likes it all right, but she says it's 
too slow. She's goin' right on to Business College and 
by fall she will be ready for a position. 

MISS EVANS:— Oh I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Brown. 
Mamie's too young to stop school and go to Business Col- 
lege- — Besides she doesn't need to — 

JANITOR — No, she doesn't need to. I can keep her in all 
right. The boys are a-earning now, but I want her to do 
the thing she thinks she wants to do. I want all my chil- 
dren to make their own choice, 

MISS EVANS (Perplexed) :— But— do you think Mamie's 
choosing right? 

JANITOR :— Well that's what I want her to find out for 
herself. You know. Miss Evans (he comes closer (and 
speaks confidentially) I always wanted to be a violinist 
when I was a boy, but my father put me in a carriage fac- 
tory to learn to be a carriage painter. After while the 
paint gets me — I had to quit and take this job. (Dream- 
ily looking into space). Now I always think of myself as a 
violinist playin' first violin down town in the orchestra. 
Now I'd like to have had my chance at the violin — I play 
at home in the evenings, hymn tunes and old favorites, 
but — not in public. I see how Caruso's father wanted him 
to be a draftsman. Well I might have been a violinist. Now 
(turning to Miss Evans), that's the reason I want my chil- 



dren to do their own deciding. Now Mamie says tlie things 
she's learnin' down there at Commerce High ain't no use 
to her. 

MISS EVANS (rising and snapping a rubber band around 
her papers) : — What, for instance, Mr. Brown? 

JANITOR: — Why she takes a lot of the same things that's 
taught in the regular high school — History and English 
and plays and poetry and even French, Mamie's a takin'. 

MISS EVANS:— But those studies will help her in get- 
ting a good position at the end of the course. Besides this, 
it will make her broad-minded. Then, she's too young to 
stop school. That's the best reason. 

JANITOR (slowly nodding his head): — Yes, she's young, 
but she's restless. She wants to get out. Now she can 
run a typewriter speedier than any of 'em and addin' and 
bookkeepin' — well, I'd like to see anyone that can beat 
Mamie at a column of figures. 

MISS EVANS: — But she needs the English, and practice 
in speaking and writing (Miss Evans is now starting to put 
on her wraps). 

JANITOR (impatiently) : — Why Mamie's had English. 
She can write a good letter. She's learned six different 
kinds — sales letters and dunnin' letters and all of 'em. But 
the English she's bavin' to read ain't no use to her. She 
says there's no need of her learning about a lot of Greek 
Gods and Goddesses that never lived and people in story 
books and poems. 

MISS EVANS (in a lame and halting fashion trying to 
keep up her end of the argument) : — But all that will help 
her to understand and appreciate what she reads. 

JANITOR — But she says she ain't goin' to earn her living 
a-readin' — she's goin' to typewrite and spell, the schools 
ought to teach more spelling. 

MISS EVANS :— Reading will help her to spell (she con- 
tinues in an academic fashion), reading, Mr. Brown, en- 
larges the vocabulary, and in acquainting ourselves with 
new words, we not only learn their meaning, but how to 
spell them. 

JANITOR — Why, spelling lessons are what Mamie wants 
and she'll get spelling every day at the Business College. 
Now the man at the Business College — (he stops abruptly) 

MISS EVANS (enlightened) Oh, the Business School 
Head has been talking to Mamie? 



(Here Mamie enters at the left. She is a slight, thin girl, 
dressed in a showy attempt at the prevailing mode. The 
heels of her shoes are high and slightly run over. She has 
rather a bright face and, hearing the last remarks, senses 
the situation at once.) 

MISS EVANS— Why, how do you do, Mamie? We're talk- 
ing about you. 

MAMIE : — Yes, I know you are. You're right ; the man 
at the Business College has been talking to me and he says 
that the Commerce High School wastes a lot of time, and 
that with my speed (with great pride) it's a shame to stay 
on there studyin' things that will do me no good. So I'm 
goin" to his school and by fall he guaijantees me a fine po- 
sition. (She speaks with great confidence.) You see I'm 
the speediest typist in our class at Commerce High, and by 
fall I'll be earning my own money. 

MISS EVANS:— Why don't you do part time work? 

MAMIE: — Oh, that's slow, too. Besides you don't get 
much money and they don't want you sticking around in 
offices and stores just for part time. They think you're 
more bother than you're worth. 

MISS EVANS — Oh part time work is valuable training, 
Mamie. Then, too, if you stop High School you'll miss so 
many good times — clubs and parties. 

MAMIE: — Yes, but that takes time. 

JANITOR (wearily) : — Yes, Mamie says they have a glee 
club, and a get-up-plays club, and a sunshine club and a 
gymnasium and hiking club and what not. 

MAMIE: — ^Yes, that's all waste of time. The Business 
School Head says it takes too long a time to graduate from 
the High School of Commerce. Now I want one course in 
stenography and typing and I can finish that easy by fall. 

MISS EVANS: — I wish you would talk to, my friend, Miss 
Chantler of the Holmes Publishing Company. She's secre- 
tary to Mr. Holmes, and I think she might give you some 
suggestions about your course. I'm sure she wouldn't want 
you to stop. 

MAMIE: — Well, I'm already stopped, though. 

JANITOR: — Yes, I gave the Business College the first pay- 
ment last night. So it's settled. 

MISS EVANS (hopelessly realizing argument is vain) : — 
Well, I'm sorry. Good night. (She turns to go.) 

MR. BROWN AND MAMIE (together) :— Good night. Miss 
Evans. 



SCENE II 

An Office of the Board of Health 

Time — October of the same year 

Four months after Scene I 

(Mr. J. M. Wells, Assistant to the Superintendent of Sani- 
tation is seated at his desk reading pamphlets. He is a 
stockily built man about 35 years of age. He pushes the 
buzzer and a stenographer enters. It is Mamie. She is 
dressed in poor taste for the office and with an attempt to 
look grown up. She enters at left and crosses to the desk, 
her vanity bag over her arm and note-book in hand. She is 
furtively chewing gum.) 

MR. WELLS (brusquely — looking up) : — Good morning. 
Miss Brown, is it? You are the new stenographer, they 
tell me. Well you will have a good chance this week to 
show your mettle, for our chief typist is away. 

MAMIE (rather abashed) :— I have speed. I was the 
speediest typist in our class at the business college. 

MR. WELLS (cynically) :— Speed, eh? Well that's not 
the whole thing, Ijut just part of it. You may take this 
letter if you are ready. 

Mamie sits down with pencil and pad, pats her hair and 
adjusts her clothing. Mr. Wells rises and' walks up and 
down as' he dictates.) 
To the Household Device Co., 

Schenectady, N. Y. (At this Mamie looks alarmed.) 

We have organized our whole town into a society for 
the extinction of the fly. Send us four gross Daisy fly kill- 
ers, also samples of any other devices you may have for 
destroying this household pest. If you have any good anti- 
fly literature send it along — but send no cheap stuff — it 
must be scientific. These people are intelligent and up-to- 
date. This town is called the Athens of America. 

Yours sincerely. 

Now, Miss Brown, get that out for me. (He resumes his 
seat.) 

(Mamie goes over to the machine and pounds vigorously. 
In a short time she submits her work. Mr. Wells reads ' 
it over to himself, exploding at intervals.) 

MR. WELLS:— "The Household Device Co., Skenneckteddy, 
N. Y. That's spelled wrong. 

MAMIE (stammering) : — Well, how ? ' 

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MR. WELLS: — Now, don't ask me how to spell it, go 
over to the dictionary there and look it np. (He nods to- 
ward a large book and Mamie goes in that direction.) (He 
reads on.) We are organizing our town into a society for 
the distinction of the fly (sarcastically) distinction of tiie 
fly — distinction. Isn't it easy enough to distinguish a fly? 
We want to extinguish him — Say (turning to her), what 
do you think extinction means? (Mamie stands petrified 
with fingers between pages of dictionary.) While you're at 
the dictionary you might look up that, too. Well, I'll be 
hanged (he bangs hisi fist down on the desk while he reads 
on.) What's this ante-fly literature? I said a-n-t-i, not e. 
Don't you know what "anti" means? Send us any devices 
5'ou maj^ have for destroying this household pet (laughing) 
pet — pet — pet (with increasing emphasis). 

MAMIE (in a confused way and with fingers in the dic- 
tionary) : — I knew better than that — honest, I did — it is 
pest, I know. You see I wanted to get it done quickly, so 
you'd see how speedy I was. 

MR. WELLS : — So you were hurrying to destroy the pet, 
eh? (he continues) : This town is called the atlas of Amer- 
ica. Atlas of America — I didn't say atlas, I said Athens, 
Athens of America— Now what sense does atlas make? 

MAMIE: — I don't know, sir. I didn't think Athens made 
any sense, either. 

MR, WELLS:— What do you mean by atlas? 

MAMIE (lamely) : — It's a kind of map. 

MR, WELLS (hopelessly) : — But I said Athens. Do you 
know where Athens is and what it stood for? 

MAMIE (brightening and with assurance) : — Athens, it's in 
Ohio. My aunt lives there. 

MR. WELLS: — You never heard of any other Athens? 
I take it your school didn't mention the glory that was 
Greece. (Muttering to himself.) Schools now teach nothing 
but frills. Now, Mis^ Bi'own, this letter must be done over 
and done right. (Emphatically.) Did you find Schnectady 
in the dictionary? 

MAMIE (meekly) : Yes, sir — 

MR. WELLS : — There are six other mistakes in this letter. 
I've marked them for you, also three misspelled words. 

MAMIE (approaching timidly and standing by the desk) : — 
You use such words, odd words, Mr, Wells. Now the man 
I was with before, he asked me how to spell words. 



MR. WELLS :— Where was that? 

MAMIE: — In the office of the General Laundry Company. 

MR. WELLS (half amused and irritated) :— Well, why 
didn't you stay there? 

MAMIE: — I got only ten dollars a week and I didn't like 
the place, either. I didn't want to say I worked in a laun- 
dry. I didn't like the folks there, either. They were — well 
— ignorant — like. Now everyone said this was a nice place 
and it is. (Naively) I've been to several places. 

MR. WELLS: — Yes, I can believe you. Well, Miss Brown, 
you may stay to-day, but I don't believe you could handle 
our work. You see in the office of the Board of Health, big 
words and queer words, as you say, are always coming 
up. Maybe you have speed, but you need to go back to 
school. 

MAMIE: — I want to be a secretary to a great man. 

MR. WELLS (dryly) : — Yes, — I know — all stenographers do 
and that's all the more reason why you should read and 
study more. 

(Mamie goes back to the machine, dabs her nose with a 
sad-looking powder puff and starts to copy her letter more 
slowly this time. Mr. Wells glances over at her and looks 
glum. He half rises to dismiss her and then sinks back 
again as if in despair at her stupidity.) 

CURTAIN 



SCENE III-SAME AS SCENE I. 

Time — Three weeks after Scene II 

(Miss Evans is putting on her gloves after school whan 
Mamie Brown comes into the room with her books on her 
arm and a purposeful look in her eyes. She does not ap- 
pear quite so jaunty as in scenes I and II. She is some- 
what subdued looking, but on the whole she has improved 
both in manner and in dress.) 

MISS EVANS (pleasantly) :— Why, hello Mamie. This is 
the first time I've seen you since last May. Looking for 
your father? He's just left. Tell me what you are doing 
now? How's the position? You told me you were promised 
one, you know. 

MAMIE : — I gave up my position or positions, I mean. It 
was this way. Miss Evans (Miss Evans sits down and mo- 
tions Mamie to a seat) the kind of position I could keep, I 
didn't want, and the kind I wanted I couldn't keep. I've 
found out I didn't know enough, so I'm back in school. I 
want an honest-to-goodness position in an office that stands 
— way up, and I want to be a secretary. 

MISS EVANS:— Why Mamie how did you find out that 
you didn't know much? 

MAMIE: — By being told several times not to report in 
the morning — being fired as they say in French. You see 
in the Business College they jollied me along because I 
had speed, and told me I didn't need to go on studying at 
Commercial High — But I know better now — I'm back there 
to stay until I've finished the Secretary's Course. 

(Confidingly) Why, Miss Evans, those men in offices 
just expect you to know everything. One man asked me to 
spell his own dictation. I'd take his letters just as he gave 
them to me and he'd complain because they didn't sound 
right. Said I ought to doctor them up. I've had five places 
since the Business College graduated me. The first was in 
the office at a fertilizer factory. 

MISS EVANS (Sniffing the air) :— A fertilizer factory? 

MAMIE : — Yes, I smelt like the whole works when I got 
home at night. That man there thought I was no good be- 
cause I couldn't spell permanganese of potassium and (in 
great disgust) he couldn't spell it himself. When I asked 
him how, he said that was what he was a payin' me for. He 
asked me if the school didn't teach spelling. I told him I 



never saw any such word as that in a spelling book — I talked 
right up to him and he told me I needn't come back, and 
I told him I wouldn't stay in his smelly old place. My, I 
loved that man like — like fertilizer. 

MISS EVANS (with interest): — Then, where did you go? 

MAMIE: — Well, the next place I didn't get any farther 
than the employment office. It was down at the Home In- 
surance Company, and the woman who looks "would-be's" 
over said I wouldn't do just as soon as she saw me. I told 
her I had speed, but she said that made no difference. They 
wanted someone with personality — Personality. (Slowly 
and with emphasis). 

MISS EVANS (Laughing) : — Can't even a Business College 
give you Personality? 

MAMIE: — I felt sore about losing that place because it 
suie was soft. All you had to do was to sit at a desk, take 
a letter once in a while for show and make a good smile at 
anyone who asked what door to go into. They wanted you 
to dress up and look nice — It seemed easy — all but the per- 
sonality part. 

MISS EVANS:— But did you ever go to see my friend. 
Miss Chantler of the Holmes Publishing Company? 

MAMIE (with enthusiasm) : — Yes, I did, and it was 
through her that I was taken on there, but I stayed only 
two or three days. 

MISS EVANS:— What happened? 

MAMIE: — I took a letter for a man and in it he called 
George Eliot "she," and I thought it was a mistake and 
changed it to "he." (Generously.) I thought he'd be glad 
for the correction. But he wasn't. He threw about ten iits 
and asked me where I had been to school. (Apologetically). 
But he is just out of college and thinks dead authors very 
important persons. I asked him how he expected me to 
know that George Eliot wasn't a he, George being a man's 
name all right. 

MISS EVANS:— What did he say? 

MAMIE : — Oh, he gave me a icy stare and said such things 
came by intuition, whatever that means. It was lost on 
me. That one little mistake in gender finished me at the 
publishing office. I was telling Miss Chantler about it and 
she didn't seem to think it was such a killing break. She 
said that in high school she had read a book, "Silas 
Marner," by George Eliot, and found out for the first time 

10 



that George Eliot was a woman named Evans. She said 
women vised to write under men's names, so more people 
would read their books. She gave me some books to 
read, too. 

MISS EVANS: — You liked Miss Chantler, didn't you? 

MAMIE: — I certainly did. She took me out to lunch 
after I had left her place and told me what good times she 
had when she went to high school. I thought when she was 
talking what a lot of good times 1 was missing. She told 
me abot her work, loo, and the — well — the requirements, 
you know. I just made up my mind (she rises and stands 
at end of desk) while she was talking that 1 wanted to be 
a secretary and know what was going on and be trusted to 
write the letters. But to be a secretary you must know 
things, 3'ou must be intelligent, and understand what your 
boss is talking about. You must have something besides 
speed, you don't need so much speed really, I've found that 
out. 

MISS EVANS: — Did Miss Chantler advise you to go back 
to school? 

MAMIE — No — I just made up my own mind about that — 
I'm goin' to take the secretarial course and elect some mod- 
ern languages because 1 want to go right in the Holmes Pub- 
lishing Company. There are lots of foreign-language books, 
you know — and I want to be able to read the title pages, 
anyway. 

(Enter Mamie's father, the janitor at the left. He nods 
at Mamie pleasantly and starts to wash the board.) 

MISS EVANS (rising) : — Well, Mr. Brown, Mamie tells me 
she has gone back to the High School of Commerce to take 
the Secretarial Course — That's good news to me. 

MR. BROWN (stopping his work, comes over to Mamie and 
fondly pats her on the back) : — And it is to me. Miss Evans 
— She came to that conclusion all by herself, too. I always 
said I wanted my children to be just what they wanted 
to be. 

CURTAIN 



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